Family Reunion
by cheekybeak
Summary: On his arrival in Valinor Legolas has to endure the nightmare of meeting Elrohir's extended family and he discovers they are not what he thought. A Condensed Silmarillion spin off.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This is a blend of my Legolas/Elrohir stories and The Condensed Silmarillion. For those of you who have not read the Condensed Silm you will find the Silmarillion characters are all a bit crazy.**

 **It is AU obviously as the First Age elves have all managed to be reborn...well except maybe Feanor, I haven't decided if he is there or not.**

 **As always All Tolkiens, not Mine.**

"Come on Legolas, we will be late."

Elrohir was pacing anxiously,

"Go ahead without me, I will come with Gimli."

"Legolas, I want to arrive with you! I want to introduce you, for people to know we are together."

"They all know we are together," Legolas grumbled. "How can they not? Your Father has been telling all and sundry for however many years it is he has been waiting for you to arrive. He has probably told them all about my unsuitability."

"Stop it Legolas. He likes you, he always has. Why are you being so difficult? You have nothing to worry about."

"I have everything to worry about. I am about to go to a feast with almost all of the entire Noldorian nobility."

Elrohir stopped pacing long enough to place a reassuring hand on Legolas's shoulder.

"They will love you as I do."

Legolas rolled his eyes.

"We don't even know how they will feel about 'us'. Glorfindel has said it was frowned upon."

"In Gondolin, years ago. Things may have changed."

"I don't think things ever change in Valinor." Legolas mumbled grumpily.

"Legolas..." Elrohir was pleading now.

"I don't want a big entrance with everyone watching me Elrohir. I promise I will follow, just let me slide in a side door with Gimli...please."

Elrohir admitted defeat.

"Very well, promise you will not be long. Find me as soon as you arrive."

"I will see he gets there lad," piped up Gimli from behind them. "I will not miss this for anything, not if The Lady will be there."

"She will be there Gimli." Elrohir smiled then he turned back to Legolas, "Are you sure? It might be better for you to be with me."

"I am sure, just go."

Legolas sighed with relief when Elrohir finally departed. He had been dreading this for years, meeting Elrohir's extended family. They were all so ...important. Every single one of them.

"Come on Lad, stop moping and get moving."Gimli was eager to get going. "You are making this worse putting it off, it is not as if you are not properly prepared, all that study you have been doing."

In anticipation of this very event Legolas had spent months of his last remaining time in Arda in the libraries studying book after book of Noldorian history. He thought he knew everything there was possible to know. His brain was exploding with random Noldor trivia.

Gimli was right, he just had to get this over with.

The hall when they arrived was filled to the brim, packed with important looking elves, there was hardly room to move and Legolas was horrified.

"How am I going to find Elrohir in this? Who ARE all these people?"

Elrohir had been right, he should have come with him. Everywhere he looked there were people in more and more elaborate clothes with more and more intimidating faces. It was his worst nightmare.

"Let's get some food Legolas, let Elrohir come to us, I can't see anything here, can you spot anyone we know?" Gimli was still upbeat at least, thank goodness for him Legolas thought.

"There is no one we know Gimli. Not that I can see."

"What? Not even Galadriel?" He was beginning to become a bit weary of Gimli's Galadriel obsession.

It was obvious he was going to have to venture deeper into the crowds if he wanted to find Elrohir, or anybody he was comfortable talking to for that matter. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, unfortunately right on top of the toe of a very blonde, very tall, very important looking elf.

"Ouch!"

The elf frowned sternly at him and Legolas wished the floor would open up and swallow him. Who was this? Desperately he searched his brain for the names of the blondes in Elrohir's family and came up with nothing. His mind was a blank.

Luckily for him the strangers gaze slid past him and landed on Gimli. His face lit up with a smile.

"Oh the Dwarf!" He exclaimed. "I was hoping I would meet you."

"Gimli Gloinson at your service." Gimli bowed deeply and very respectfully and Legolas realised he was doing a much better job of being polite than he.

The blonde Elf smiled happily,

"It has been so long since I last saw a dwarf, I have missed your people. We must talk! There are no hard feelings I hope."

Gimli looked as confused as Legolas felt, obviously he had no idea what the elf was talking about.

"About the jewels.." the blonde went on to clarify, "The ones I acquired, I probably shouldn't have done that in retrospect. Went a bit off the rails there for awhile I'm afraid."

"No," Gimli said confidently, "No hard feelings at all. quite alright." Legolas knew he was making it up as he went along.

The elf finally turned to him and appraised him closely.

"And you must be the Sindar who bought him here. I admire your courage. A few here were rather taken aback I must say."

Perhaps if he gave his name the stranger would finally tell them who he was Legolas thought. He was obviously important enough to think they should automatically know.

"Legolas Thranduilion," he said bowing his head, hand to his chest.

"Ah yes Thranduil's child. I knew your Grandfather you know...in Doriath, You resemble him."

Legolas decided by now he had enough clues to work out who this was but alas he had no idea, he did look familiar, there was someone he resembled but he was not sure who.

The elf noticed his hesitation.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. Very sorry, you do get used to everyone knowing who you are, I am Findaráto."

He held out his hand and Legolas took it but his stomach fell. Why had he not learnt their Quenya names? He was hopeless at Quenya. This was obviously a Fin but which one? There were so many of them. It was as if they had never heard of any other name.

"Finrod," the elf said gently as if he knew exactly what went on in Legolas's mind, and perhaps he did?

"Finrod?"Legolas gasped and he was mortified. This was the Lord of Nargothrond, Galadriel's brother of all people, so that was who he looked like. He had dueled with Sauron in song, he was the first to be reborn and Legolas and Gimli had been a pair of gibbering idiots.

"My Lord..." He stammered and was about to drop to his knees when Finrod stopped him.

"No, no, no need for all that. I am

not a Lord now, just an also ran. I prefer it that way to be honest."

"Who is he?" Gimli hissed in his ear, but he couldn't answer him without being obvious. He hoped he would just keep quiet, unlikely as that was.

"Findaráto!"

Another elf approached them and Legolas stared at him through narrowed eyes for was it...Elrond? It looked like Elrond but something was not quite right. Gimli obviously felt the same,

"Is that Elrond, Legolas? He looks...odd." He asked.

"Uncanny isn't it," Finrod said happily, "they do look so alike, especially from the right angle but that is not Elrond, it is Turgon."

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief at the Sindarin name. At least he did not have to guess at the identity of this one. But the relief was short lived . It was Turgon and he was a High King...had been, Legolas reminded himself, he had been High King. He wondered how all these High Kings got on with each other all being in the same place. Now he was going to have to try and kneel again.

Finrod grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"No kneeling," he said, "you will only embarrass him. He wants to put Gondolin behind him. He is not that proud of it."

"But..."

Finrod did not let him finish.

"Turukáno, meet Legolas, and his dwarf." Finrod called out excitedly.

"I am not HIS dwarf, he is my elf." Gimli grumbled loudly.

"Oh forgive me," Finrod said laughing merrily, "Turukáno, meet Gimli and his elf."

Turgon have them a cursory glance and a nod.

"Pleased to meet you." But he obviously wasn't particularly bothered about meeting them at all.

He was radiating anxiety, and constantly peering at the ceiling.

"Findaráto," Turgon leaned close to Finrod who put his arm round him with a smile and gazed adoringly at him. They were being awfully familiar Legolas thought, how odd, one would

almost be forgiven for thinking they were ...No... Surely not! His mind was running away with him, he was imagining things. The stress was getting to him.

"I thought I saw a crack in the ceiling," Turgon said anxiously and Legolas looked hurriedly upwards, he was never keen about being inside. This building must be old, perhaps it was falling apart?

Finrod patted Turgon's arm kindly,

"It is fine beloved, my father has had the engineers check it for you. It is quite safe."

"I think I might go outside" Turgon was edging away towards the doorway but Legolas didn't hear him, he was still trying to get his head around that last statement of Finrod's. Beloved? That wasn't right. He had read all about these two and there was no mention of that. He wouldn't have forgotten it.

"Will you join me?" Turgon hovered in the doorway.

"Of course," Finrod positively glowed, but then he glanced nervously around and whispered, "Will you check there are no dogs?"

Turgon smiled, he seemed happier now his head was outside the building,

"You know Arafinwë lets no dogs on the property, but I will check...just for you. Give me a moment." And he sauntered off into the darkness.

Legolas knew he was gaping like an idiot. He didn't seem able to close his mouth and Finrod obviously decided he needed an explanation.

"I hate dogs," he said seriously, "and wolves...especially wolves, nothing with four legs actually, well maybe not cats..." He paused for thought, "No, cats as well. I don't like them either, those sharp claws and teeth." And he shuddered.

But it wasn't that which was bothering Legolas however odd it might be.

"Are they all like you and Elrohir then Legolas?" Gimli asked behind him. "Why didn't you tell me that. I thought you were worrying about it."

"Shut up." He hissed but it was too late, Finrod had heard it.

"You mean Turgon and I?" He said quite happily, "Oh most people have accepted it now, although some of his people are a bit uptight I have to say."

"But you are...he is... Glorfindel said..." Legolas stumbled over the words. "That is...we hadn't heard," he dropped his voice low, "and you are Gildor's father and Turgon is-"

"Yes well there was a bit of denial in our younger years I must admit. You know about Gildor? That was a secret!"

"We all know about Gildor." Legolas said, "he wandered around the countryside telling everybody he met."

Finrod frowned, and Legolas noted even frowning he still looked beautiful.

"I have to have a word with him. He knows that was not the plan. He became quite uncontrollable once I left!"

At that moment Turgon poked his head back through the door,

"No dogs!" He cried,

"Will you excuse me," Finrod was nothing if not polite,

"If I am lucky I may be able to get him back inside before the night is out."

He gave Gimli a wide smile,

"We must talk Gimli Gloinson, Come and see me both of you, We are on the edge of town, the large tent...for obvious reasons," he indicated Turgon with his head.

And he was gone.

"Well, they were both rather strange." Gimli said as they stood and stared after him. "Why did you not recognise him? I thought you had memorised all their pictures?"

"They look nothing like their pictures Gimli, I don't understand it!"

The evening was not off to a very good start. How had he missed knowing about Finrod and Turgon?

And then there was the ceiling...he tilted his head back to look at it. Where was the crack exactly?

He had always had a sneaking suspicion ceilings were not as safe as people assumed they were.

If a High King was worried about it there had to be something wrong.

Didn't there?


	2. Chapter 2

It was very difficult to walk through a crowd and stare at the ceiling at the same time Legolas discovered. Gimli wasn't helping any with his continual grumbling either.

"Legolas! Look where you at going, do you realise how many very important looking people you have nearly walked into? I thought you wanted to make a good impression?"

"You heard what he said Gimli. There is a crack in the ceiling somewhere but I can't see one anywhere."

"There is nothing wrong with the ceiling Legolas. It is very fine work in my opinion."

"Gimli, that was Turgon. High King and ruler of Gondolin. He would know a crack if he saw one!"

"Well he is blind. I don't care if he is High King there is nothing wrong with this ceiling."

"Well he is not High King any more of course." Legolas just had to point that out. Gimli really was sadly lacking in his knowledge of Elven politics.

"Once a High King, always a High King Legolas."

"Not if you were dead...there must be half a dozen High Kings here, It just wouldn't work Gimli."

Gimli pondered on that seriously,

"Do they have a ranking system do you think? High King, Very High King, Highest of them all King?"

"Gimli!" Legolas was horrified and looked around anxiously to see if they had been overheard.

"You can't make fun of them."

"I wasn't," Gimli was most insulted, "I seriously want to know Legolas, what they do with them all."

"Well I will ask Elrohir," Legolas hissed, "but be quiet about it now."

He went back to his ceiling inspection, Gimli was proving to be more trouble than he was worth. Perhaps if he ignored him he would be quieter. He was beginning to wonder if bringing a dwarf here was such a good idea after all. What with studying the ceiling and being distracted by thoughts of the painfulness of dwarves Legolas completely missed the Elf he ran into. He didn't see him at all until it was too late.

"It is usual to move around people not walk through them." The voice was very imperious, very majestic and very annoyed and Legolas nearly leapt out of his skin with fright.

"You will have to excuse my friend." Gimli piped up...would he not just keep his mouth shut? "He believes the ceiling may have some faults in it. I have told him it is sturdy enough for an elf structure but he will not listen, apparently High Kings are the only ones whose opinions count in the matter of ceilings."

Legolas felt his cheeks flame, Gimli was being so terribly embarrassing.

"Ah I see you have met Turgon then. Don't worry child, there is nothing wrong with the ceiling, Turgon has some...issues... We are trying to work on them but without much luck so far."

"I am afraid unless you are a High King, Very High King or something similar he won't believe you- Ouch!"

Legolas stood very firmly on Gimli's toes.

The elf smiled at that and his smile was blazing. He had been beautiful before but now he was simply magnificent and Legolas was left lost for reminded him of Elrohir at his most entrancing...and Elrohir could be so very entrancing.

"I am as it happens a High King," he laughed..."At least I used to be."

"Oh! Perhaps you can tell us about the ranking structure then." Gimli was not going to be deterred by a sore toe.

All he got in answer to that question however was a very odd look and the majestic elf returned his attentions to Legolas. Legolas really wished he wouldn't. He was very disarming.

"I apologise if my son has worried you," he said kindly, "I can assure you the ceiling is in perfect condition, If only Turgon had managed to track a Balrog down to kill him instead of his house...who gets killed by their house? There would be much fewer problems if it was a Balrog, Fingon is fine after all."

Legolas's brain was racing at the speed of knots...his son? But Turgon's father was...Oh Elbereth, had he walked into Fingolfin himself? Could he be any stupider?

"I...no...I..." It seemed he had lost the power of speech.

"Oh WE have seen a Balrog," Was there no end to Gimli's babbling? "The one that killed Gandalf, We only escaped by the skin of our teeth you know...very close thing. It was petrified of me of course...and Legolas too obviously..." He added when Legolas threw him a glare, "Very scared of the both of us."

Fingolfin lit up at that.

"Really?" he said to Legolas, "I had not heard of this, who is this Gandalf? You defeated a Balrog?"

"No we-" Legolas really didn't want to talk about that Balrog, least of all to Fingolfin.

"Don't be shy Legolas," unfortunately Gimli, who didn't have a clue who this was was really getting into the swing of it.

"Of course we defeated it. A deader Balrog you never saw. Lucky we were there or the whole lot of them would have been scorched, not just Gandalf."

Legolas was mortified, he wished he was anywhere but here, that someone would save him, and it seems his prayers were answered or were they? Right at that moment to his great relief Galadriel sauntered towards them through the crowd.

"Uncle," she said graciously, because of course, Legolas thought to himself, she always had to be gracious.

"I see you have met Legolas and Gimli." and she smiled beautifically down upon them. Legolas scowled, he had still not forgiven her for that mess about the sea longing. The least she could have done was given a better warning.

"I have!" Fingolfin exclaimed and he seemed to be not remotely affected by the ethereal graciousness. In fact he seemed quite put out. "Why did you not tell me about the Balrog Galadriel?"

'No, no, no' Legolas cried internally and looked around for an escape route but there was none.

"Balrog?" That threw Galadriel off her stride and despite the fact he was about to be in a mess of trouble Legolas had to smile at that. It was worth it all to see Galadriel discomforted.

"Apparently these two are responsible for killing one. A Sindar and a Dwarf! Why has this news not reached us? You have said nothing about this."

Galadriel fixed both of them with her most intense glare, the one that made your legs turn to jelly, and Gimli wavered beneath it. But Legolas however held firm. She didn't get to intimidate him any longer he reminded himself, she was in the wrong over the sea longing and she knew it. She owed him one.

"I was not aware of this Legolas." She said icily, "It's funny, I was under the impression Mithrander killed that Balrog."

"Ah...well you see my lady..." Gimli was obviously desperately trying to extract himself from the situation, "Perhaps Gandalf's memory about the whole incident was a bit shaky, he was under a bit of strain...I am sure he simply forgot to tell you of mine and Legolas's valiant efforts..." Was it Legolas's imagination or was Gimli actually backing away?

Galadriel simply raised an eyebrow...only one...

"And Elessar forgot to mention them either?"

"Now he had plenty of important things to be doing, saving the wold of man and the rest of it. Probably just slipped his mind." It wasn't his imagination...Gimli WAS backing away and rather speedily.

He was leaving him in the lurch!

"I think I hear someone calling me Legolas...I really must go."

"You are not going anywhere." Legolas hissed at him under his breath. Gimli had got him Into this mess, he could help get him out.

But subtle insinuated threats weren't working.

"No, no I must be off.. Very nice to meet you your honour...your lordship...sir..." Gimli bowed in the direction of Fingolfin and was off.

And Legolas found himself on his own, in the middle of a crowd, with an annoyed Galadriel and a terrifying Fingolfin.

"Very odd your little friend," Fingolfin said thoughtfully. "I never did get the hang of those dwarves, strange creatures ...still...he did kill a Balrog so worth talking to I suppose. Who did the most of the killing?" He asked Legolas, "You or he?"

"Yes indeed Legolas," Galadriel smiled sweetly and very dangerously, "Do tell me."

Legolas felt ill.

"I'd rather not..." he stammered.

"Now, now boy. Don't be modest." Fingolfin was being most encouraging.

"I really just..." he turned to Galadriel, throwing her a look that said...save me!

To his amazement she did.

"Legolas is part woodelf and the woodelves are a very modest people remember Uncle," she said. "You make Legolas embarrassed asking him to boast about his prowess."

"I don't remember them being particularly modest." Fingolfin frowned.

"Well," Galadriel took his arm, "Perhaps the Halls have confused some of your memories."

She leant towards Legolas and whispered in his ear.

"I never want to hear a word about the sea longing again. Consider that debt paid!"

Legolas was not about to argue. Right then he wanted to do nothing else but run far away from the both of them.

"I was looking for Elrohir." He said to her.

"Elrohir?" Fingolfin asked with interest, "Who is he? Another Balrog killer?"

"He is Elrond's child. Uncle, my grandchild. We told you."

"And Elrond is?" Fingolfin obviously didn't have a clue who any of them were Legolas realised with astonishment.

"Turgon's great grandchild!" Galadriel explained patiently.

"There are so many of them." Fingolfin sighed, "How am I ever supposed to keep track of them...and they all have such outlandish names. El this...El that...I ask you what's wrong with a good old fashioned Fin? Much easier to keep track of."

Legolas watched with amazement as behind his back Galadriel rolled her eyes. How did she dare?! He thought this might be a good time to quietly slip away...far, far away.

"Hang on!" He heard Fingolfin exclaimed just before the crowd swallowed him up,

"Let me get this straight. Turgon's great grandson is the father of YOUR grandchild? Isn't that kind of...wrong? Galadriel just what have you been doing to my bloodline?"

And Legolas thought there was no better time for him to leave them to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: haven't written anything on this story for ages and suddenly was compelled to! Hope someone out there can remember it.**

Legolas could not get away from Fingolfin and Galadriel fast enough. Basically—even he had to admit—what he was doing was running.

That conversation had been such a disaster from start to finish, when he got hold of Gimli...heads would roll. Gimli's head, Gimli's little dwarven head to be exact.

But running away in the middle of a crowded hall had some draw backs. One of which was tripping over while trying to avoid the legions of high ranking elves, somersaulting dramatically, before crashing into the legs of one of them. A very tall, very fierce, very gorgeous—he couldn't help noticing—very intimidating Noldo. The next thing he knew he was dangling in the air, held by the scuff of his neck.

"What do you think you are doing?"

He flinched in the face of the Noldo's ire . . . At the same time noticing just how supremely beautiful his hair was. Just the right shade of red, with golden lights in it . . . Very distracting.

Then Legolas found himself sitting back on the ground where he had been rudely deposited, dropped from a height. And it hurt!

"Nelyo!" A darker haired elf, silver ribbons threaded through his ebony locks appeared from nowhere. Was he auditioning for a pantomime? Legolas wondered, then chastised himself. What a bizarre thought. The stress was getting to him. He rubbed his elbow which was stinging badly . . . Simply to give himself something to do.

"Nelyo, he is a Sindar . . . Remember Doriath!"

For a brief moment he thought they meant to slaughter him, as the Noldor had slaughtered his forebears. Surely not here—in public—but then . . . Why not?

But it seemed not.

"I am sorry!" The redhead looked at him in total horror. "I did not mean it. You took me by surprise. Sorry, sorry, sorry. It always happens, Fin." He looked towards the beribboned elf." With the Sindar, it always goes wrong!"

He patted Legolas down in a panic. Exclaiming in despair when he found the blood seeping through his tunic from his elbow.

"Oh no! You are hurt! I will get a healer."

"I do not need a healer." Legolas protested in astonishment. "It is only a graze."

"Humour him, please." The darkhaired elf leaned towards Legolas to whisper in his ear. "He feels so badly about Doriath . . . If you would just let him mother you a bit . . . "

And suddenly the pieces all fell into place. Nelyo . . . Doriath . . . The red hair . . .

Legolas reared back in horror. This was Maedhros Feanorian! The one who ordered the slaughter of his people.

"Get off me!" He threw his hands out to ward of the Noldo, "You killed my people. Get off!"

Why had Elrohir not told him Feanorians would be here? Legolas would _never_ have come if he knew that.

But Maedhros looked so despairing at his rejection he almost felt sorry for him.

"I didn't mean it. You don't understand, it was my brothers. They were always uncontrollable and Findekano was dead. It was all too much."

"There, there, Nelyo." The elf who could only be Fingon, Legolas realised, patted Maedhros' arm reassuringly. "Come sit with us _please,"_ he pleaded with Legolas, "Let Nelyo make this up to you. He will not hurt you, I promise."

Legolas had no choice in the end. They were both much bigger and stronger than him, Fingon kept a death grip on his arm, and who was going to pick a fight with Fingon the valiant? Not Legolas, that's for sure. And so he found himself seated at a table, Maedhros Feanorian on one side still worrying about his elbow and Fingon on the other making sure he didn't run.

"Why are you here little Sindar?" Maedhros asked him, "and what shall we call you?"

But Legolas wasn't in the mood for chitchat. He just wanted to be out of this madhouse. He just wanted Elrohir!

"I am looking for Elrohir." If this Noldo wanted to make things better for him, finding Elrohir would be a good start.

"Who?" Maedhros frowned, "Do I know him?" He asked Fingon.

"Elrond's boy." Fingon said enthusiastically. "You met him earlier remember Nelyo. There were two of them...just the same."

"Twins, Findekáno. They are called twins." Legolas wondered if he could just slip away while the two of them carried out this bizarre conversation. "But I do not know where he is," Maedhros turned back to him and it was too late. "What is he doing bringing you here? Has the boy got no sense? Doesn't he know this is a dangerous place for a Sindar? So many Noldor here. He needs to look after you better."

"He _does_ look after me." Legolas sighed, "but I lost him and cannot find him."

"That's just not good enough. I will have stern words with him when I next see him. " Maedhros lit up with a smile then and it was brilliant, it lit up the room. And even Legolas was impressed. So impressed he almost missed Maedhros' next words.

"Perhaps I should adopt him, Fin? This little Sindar. I can make up for the whole Doriath mess. Look after him properly since this son of Elrond's is positively negligent."

"You cannot just go around adopting people Nelyo, even Sindar. He belongs to somebody else."

"I already have a father!" Legolas chimed in. He wasn't about to let himself be adopted by a Feanorian, his father would have a fit...just where was Elrohir?

"We adopted Elrond and Elros. _They_ had a father." Meadhros was ignoring both of them.

"That was different. Their father wasn't exactly on the scene was he Nelyo."

"And neither is this little Sindar's. Where is his father...letting him wander round unsupervised at night? Why is he not here?"

"He was not invited!" Legolas cried. "I have a perfectly good father. I am not available for adopting."

"Well if you say so."

Legolas watched aghast as Maedhros fell into what looked remarkably like a sulk.

It was Fingon who intervened once again.

"Think of something else you can do for him, Nelyo. Something more achievable. Is there anything you need? " he asked Legolas, "Anything we can get you?"

"I am cold." It was the first thing into his mind and it was true. These two had tucked themselves away into a very dark corner of the room and Legolas was freezing. "A fire would not go astray."

He almost fell off his chair when Fingon leapt to his feet.

"No fire! We do not do fire!"

"It's winter," To say Legolas was confused was an understatement. "And cold. Everyone does fire in the winter otherwise how do you keep warm?"

"Clothes." Fingon said adamantly, "lots of clothes...and no fire!"

"If you don't want to light one," Legolas waved an arm towards the nearest empty hearth, "then I will for you, or perhaps we can go to that one over there." A group was seated on the other side of the room in front of a roaring fire and he was being to be insanely jealous as the cold chilled his bones.

"I am _not_ going near those flames!" Fingon hissed. "They burn, and just...I am not!"

"They only burn if you touch them." Fingon had, up until this point, seemed quite reasonable so Legolas was rather taken aback by this unexpected fire situation.

Maedhros leaned in and placed a hand on his shoulder causing Legolas to jump a mile high. He was rather afraid the Feanorian might kidnap him after all the adoption talk.

"Don't push it." Maedhros whispered. "We neither of us are keen on the flames, but Fingon especially so. He knows the feeling of burning too well."

Another two people who were a sandwich short of a picnic, Legolas thought. Was _anyone_ normal here? And he began to worry. Perhaps is was a genetic problem? A weakness in the genes. They all were a bit inbred after all. Perhaps this was Elrohir's fate as well...to eventually be stark raving mad? Although he seemed quite normal at the moment.

He wondered who he could possibly ask about this without causing offence?

Meanwhile Maedhros was trying to convince Fingon there was no way the flames could reach him from the far side of the room and fighting a losing battle. Legolas could see Fingon would eventually have to end up outside with that mad Finrod and Turgon to feel safe. How did they all live like this? And Fingolfin had said Fingon was normal. Did he just not notice the extreme fire phobia?

Still Legolas saw his chance and began to back ever so carefully away. Slowly, slowly, slowly he edged further and further into the crowd until finally he was sure they could no longer see him. He was well hidden amongst the others when he called Maedhros exclaim loudly,

"Little Sindar! Where is he Fin? I have lost him! Oh, I am as bad as his own father, letting him wander. I told you I was hopeless with the Sindar."

He sounded so sad, so mournful that Legolas nearly turned around and went back.

Nearly...but not quite. He was not _that_ stupid.


End file.
